


Send the Pain Below

by uena



Series: The Road to Hell (is Paved With Good Intentions) [1]
Category: The Tomorrow People (2013)
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 23:38:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uena/pseuds/uena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John volunteered for this, he knows that, but that doesn't make the pain any easier to bear. Jedikiah does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Send the Pain Below

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hope_calaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope_calaris/gifts).



> Our headcanon for John and Jedikiah is bad and wrong and we are evil.
> 
> I regret nothing.

The first time they give him the drugs John feels as if he’s breaking apart. They explained the procedure to him, and he doesn’t know what he expected. Not this.

Not this whitehot pain behind his eyes, the burning sensation in his extremities. He thought he might get a headache – that the pain would be concentrated on the area the drug was affecting.

But this. This is torture.

He knows that he volunteered, that he does this so Jedikiah will be proud, but right now he doesn’t know if he can go on. If he can do this again and again, until they succeed, go on with the procedure, and become what Jedikiah wants him to be.

He wants to be strong enough, wants more than anything for Jedikiah to be proud, wants to be just as good as Killian seems to be at this, but it just hurts.

They left him alone to _adjust_ to the sensation – those were their exact words – sent him to his room and told him to take an Aspirin if it gets too much.

 _Too much_ isn’t the right way to describe it. He feels as if he’s going out of his mind.

He’s out of bed before he has properly processed what he’s doing, out of his room, down the corridor and on his way to Jedikiah’s office. The next wave of pain and nausea has him collapsing into the wall to his left. He’s almost blinded by the pain, disoriented, and he thinks that he might be crying – and then there’s somebody holding him up.

“John?”

He knows the voice, turns to its owner’s body by instinct, although he can’t seem to manage to properly open his eyes. Everything is bright and sharp, the artificial light burning him as if he was standing directly below the sun.

“John, are you in pain?”

He doesn’t manage a proper response, just a mewling, desperate sound as if he was some dying animal – and then there’s a hand on his forehead, and everything just. Stops.

The hand is big and warm, shielding him from the light, and the body in front of him blocking out everything else. He lets himself trip forward, wants to get more of that, more of the warmth, the security, the sheer nearness of another human body.

Arms close around him and hold him, and he sighs, tries to forget everything else, and fails. The pain is just too much.

“Come on, John. Come with me. I got you.”

He tries to walk as best as he can, even though he can’t see, hears a door being opened and closed behind him, and then he’s being lowered onto something – maybe a couch – and the warmth and the security vanish, and he can’t stop himself from crying out.

“I’ll be right back, John. Relax. I’ll give you something for the pain.”

He stays still because there’s nothing else he can do, tries to keep his eyes closed and regulate his breathing, but it doesn’t help. Nothing helps.

The needle against his neck feels alien and cold, but he holds still because he’s told to, and right now he wants nothing more than to obey this voice.

“Please,” he manages, once the needle is removed, “please don’t leave.”

His tongue feels thick in his mouth, like cotton, and his head is starting to feel light and heavy as led in turns – but it doesn’t hurt anymore.

“Yeah,” Jedikiah says, his voice soft. “Yeah, I can stay if you want me to.”

He sits down next to John on the couch, and John does what his body’s telling him to: pressing as close to Jedikiah as he possibly can. Without the overpowering pain the warmth and security of Jedikiah’s nearness feel even better, and John moans softly without quite meaning to.

“It’s okay,” Jedikiah tells him, his voice still soft, careful, and he lifts his arm, lets John burrow deeper into him, holds him close. “It’s okay, I got you.”


End file.
